The Blade Dance
by Rushwriter
Summary: A story featuring Lucian, Sonja and the tale of how they met, starting with several dances...the continuing saga of the one shot story, The Dance of the Phoenix. Note: Chapter 1, The Dance of the Prey, has been heavily revised! Please read and review.
1. Prologue: The Dance of the Phoenix

_A/N: This represents the continuation of the one-shot story "The Dance of the Phoenix" (written earlier this year. The K+ version can still be found on my fanfic website.) Hope you enjoy the tale (and just as a warning, the overall rating has changed to T.) Please read and review._

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Prologue : The Dance of the Phoenix**

_A bird of prey soars upon the dark winds, twisting as she weaves her delicate form to the measured steps of vampiric dance. Exquisite and proud, she winds a black cord of death about her arm, reaching with her wrist to strike once…twice…and thrice against the stone, the pale dagger bound to her skin slicing the fine embers of gold into unseen flame. Fleeting, the beauty raises her eyes once to the painted moon, dipping her fingers down to swim beneath silver waters that drift about her crippled limbs. In time, the music falters and in silence, she falls. Her splendour washed aside as a phoenix drifting ash and cinder upon a marble sea._

Lucian stood against the pillar, watching entranced as the grace of Viktor's daughter swam slowly beneath his gaze. For months, the girl had been left to his charge, the responsibility of her welfare detaching him from his true place and calling as _first_ among the lycan warriors. _First!_ he thought with regret. But Viktor had brooked no argument and, loyal to the death, Lucian had offered none. For _of course,_ he knew why he'd been chosen…knew there was a price to be paid for being _this_ good…

…but oh, how it smarted!

Being forced to watch as the others left for hunts and ruled the ramparts, while day after day, he stood guard over this vampire _runt_ as she struggled past sunrise. A silent weakling who danced, smooth and swaying upon misshapen limbs while other vampires had escaped for their beds, leaving the torn water-lily with transparent pity and scorn as she practiced, unwilling to give up the flowing steps that might never be hers.

_Give it up_, he mused softly…his gaze still following the abandoned runt as his mind drifted longingly to the hills outside. The thought of being able to run free under the brilliant rays of sunlight. The blue _skies_ of open rampancy…the warm _days_ of unabashed freedom...the green _eyes_ staring daggers at him from the marble floor…

The music had stopped, the two lycan minstrels sitting horrified at the other end of the hall…their jaws open at what their trained ears had just heard, unsure whether to keep playing as the princess halted in her dance…her ears equally trained…

_Eyes staring…daggers? _Lucian gulped. _I couldn't have spoken out loud…_

…_or could I?_

The girl had raised her entire torso now, searching through the hundred black cords that hung from the silver clasps above their heads…the pale green of her eyes _shooting_ to pierce his gaze in the darkness.

_Wolf's bane! I spoke out loud…_

Lucian dropped to his knees, ashamed of his callous words. The princess had caused this guardianship for months, but not _once_ had she looked cruelly upon his face. True, she had never spoken nor shown a sign that his existence meant more than dust, but that in itself was better treatment than most lycans received in bondage. His words came out in a tirade of anguish, the voice deep and stricken with shame.

"Forgive me, milady. I meant…what I meant to say is that I speak in terms of…"

"You are an expert in dance then?" she asked softly.

He gulped. "No, milady. I…I am nothing. A lycan warrior, milady. Nothing more."

Lucian kept his gaze trained on the marble floor, hoping with all his strength that she might dismiss him and leave this incident behind closed doors. At the very least, a painful whipping would be in order and a warning from Viktor regarding insolence…

…_but at the most, you fool of a lycan, she could have you executed on a whim if she cared… _

"_Pater, the lycan tried to steal my chastity…"_

"_Pater, he looked at me the wrong way..."_

"_Pater, his eyes look rabid…"_

All it took was _one_ word…one_ hint_ and his head would be decorating Viktor's wall after they quartered his body and fed his _remains_ to the dogs. _How could he have been so careless?_ Lucian listened carefully, closing his eyes, but finally daring to look up as he prayed upon this fair-haired maiden for mercy.

Abruptly, she hissed, turning upon the musicians as her eyes darkened to a tempestuous shade of blue. "_Leave us!_"

The minstrels grabbed their instruments and footed it from the hall, ready to inform the pack of Lucian's forthcoming retirement from _life_. The warrior swallowed, returning his gaze to the ground as he waited for her to speak…his breath coming out increasingly laboured as he realized the runt of vampires might have a bit more cruelty than he first assumed. This was Viktor's daughter after all…

But the torn water-lily remained quiet…watching the lycan warrior for several minutes as he knelt before her on hands and knees, the dark locks of his hair hanging to the marble.

She smirked suddenly. "Are you afraid of me?"

Lucian swallowed, unable to see the expression on her face, but judging her tone to be one of arrogance. Arrogant vampires required humble words, so he started. "My life is in your hands, milady. Fear is necessary when I am so powerless, for I am but an..."

"…_insect which may be crushed if milady so chooses._" Sonja finished, folding her arms awkwardly in front of her. She sighed. "I've heard that one already…"

"I sincerely apologize, milady…but my humility is…"

"…_as boundless as the sea, for I am but a dog howling in your midst._"

He bit back an exasperated retort and struggled to keep his tone humble and subdued. "I beg your forgiveness, milady, for my mind is both poor and…"

"Heard it…"

Lucian gritted his teeth. "Well then. Would milady be so kind as to _excuse my dull wit? _I am but a poor servant unable to _express_ true joy at groveling before her ladyship's _majestic_ countenance, _flawless_ eloquence, and _unconscionable_ memory!" His voice dripped with sarcasm, the deep timbres making no attempt to disguise the mocking jeer behind the words.

_Oh God… _He breathed, eyes widening in shock…unable to believe what he'd just done. The horror…one sentence. She'd be running to Viktor as soon as the sun set…

But a smile drew slyly upon the Lady Sonja's lips and she laughed. "You are too kind, Sir Dull-wit. Pray tell me, what is your true name, and will you spend the rest of our conversation smelling the marble floor or must I beckon your eyes to my pitiable dance once more?"

He blinked.

Coughed…

…and then "_Wha_…"

"Oh my, you must be _very_ dull indeed." She frowned seriously. "Should I rephrase the question?"

Lucian swallowed, both unnerved and very suspicious. Any moment now, she'd be screaming about her chastity, having lulled him into a false sense of security so she could laugh over how easily she'd killed one of the lycans. But the warrior caved, knowing he'd have to answer her queries regardless of what happened. She _was_ the glorified mistress after all…

"I am…Lucian, milady."

"And I am Sonja…but for that crack you made earlier, you may call me _majestic eloquence_ or just _runt_ for short. Pick one."

His eyes widened.

She nodded, rising from the marble. "Yes, Lucian…this isn't the _only_ time I've heard you muttering. Although your volume was a bit…biting this afternoon…"

"But I…I…"

"Oh stop stuttering…I won't tell anyone I stole your chastity belt. Now if you don't mind, I must return to my steps. Good day to you, Sir Dull-wit."

_What was…how did she… _Lucian jumped to his feet abruptly, grazing his knees upon the marble as he stood. "M-Milady…wait…"

The small bird turned, raising a brazen eyebrow at the lycan. "Yes?"

_How did…she seemed so…_he almost glared at her, the shadowy eyes of his face darkening as the words struggled to come out, saying for once _exactly_ what he was thinking, regardless of how stupid and _soft_ it might sound. "I think…"

Lucian breathed. _I can do this_…

"I think…you…"

_Enough! You're a warrior, not a pup. Now say it!_

The first warrior of lycans sighed, running a sweaty palm against his neck, still feeling sheepish as the truth came out. "I think you dance beautifully…and I hope you can forgive the cruelty of my words for they were cold and heartless." Suddenly he blushed, turning his head carefully to the spot where she had fallen a thousand times trying to perfect the Dance of the Phoenix...and his fingers pointed towards the marble, a storm gathering around his eyes as unabashedly he stared upon her soul. "Given the choice," he said. "I would rather see you fall _once_ into the sea, flaming upon the wind than watch a thousand blood-dancers drift perfectly through your steps without pride or grace."

The lady twisted alluringly in her steps. "Do you mean that?" she asked softly.

Lucian nodded once, unnerved by the curse which had fallen from his lips. "I do." he answered.

And turning away, the lycan master returned to his post, melting into darkness as he waited for Lady Sonja to finish her dance.

_A bird of prey once soared upon the dark winds, twisting as she wove her delicate form to the measured steps of a vampiric dance. Exquisite and proud, she wound a black cord of death about her arm, reaching with her wrist to strike once…twice…and thrice against the stone, the pale dagger bound to her skin slicing the fine embers of gold into unseen flame. Fleeting, the beauty raised her eyes once to the painted moon, dipping her fingers down to swim beneath the silver waters that drifted about her crippled limbs._

_In time, the music faltered…_

…_and in silence, she fell._

_Her splendour washed aside as a phoenix drifting ash and cinder upon a marble sea._


	2. Chapter I: The Dance of the Prey

_A/N: This chapter is currently being revised/edited. There are several mistakes here and there, so until this note is gone, please remember, some paragraphs are being changed. (26 May 2008)_

**Chapter I: The Dance of the Prey**

_A dark wolf hunts, ravenous and lingering on the air above. Hackles rising, he dances on wind, sweeping a blade lightly in an arch, avoiding his prey by inches. Pacing through steps never quite touching her delicate form. Eyes on her throat, the fine embers of gold within his grasp. The bird tensing as the wolf twists into the crook of her back, winding himself sinuously around her waist. Her silken feathers seized between his claws, the blade leaning dangerously towards her neck..._

Breathing heavily, Lucian halted in mid-step, sweat trickling down his back. _Something was wrong._ _Very wrong. He was...too close, his arm around her waist, his hand on her..._ He swallowed, unable to look down, unable to let go, breathing in the scent. The smell of flame and ash, the green irises so close he could almost see his reflection. _Some part of his brain still functioning, screaming at him for the love of sanity to let go. He had to let go. _Swallowing, he let his sword-hand fall, the blade hovering above stone. _Somehow the steps had changed. He should have twisted left and taken her hand. He had seen it in his mind, but somehow he had gone right. He had...changed the steps. No longer clutching the silken gown, but the silk of her ladyship's…_

…_thigh._

The blood drained from his face.

_What in Viktor's name are you doing, _he thought in horror, quickly releasing the lady and stepping back, his head bowed. Desperately trying to control his heartbeat. Desperately trying to put space between them. A stone pillar prevented him from backing any further. He could not see her, but he could feel the shadows of flame darkening his skin. _He could burn for having ventured so close. How could this have happened? One moment he was demonstrating a child's sword-dance and the next…_

_...the next..._

_…he'd shown her the blade-dance. Not the sword-tryst. Not the steps of thirst, but the genuine blade-dance. _Unwittingly, he raised his head again, gaze travelling swift between the black cords. She stood between the columns, her back to him, adjusting her dress, smoothing the pleats he had taken up with the twist step. _The room was feeling hot all of sudden_…_ She must think him a rogue…an animal. Fool of a lycan, a hand maybe…or even a wrist! But her thigh? Throw yourself on the fire and be done with it. Wring your own neck! Serve_ yourself _for supper, you half-wit son of dogs! Of all the dances to choose…_

Shifting his feet, Lucian tried to relax against the marble, fiddling with his sword-hilt…unable to keep still as the torn water-lily watched him. She was scrutinizing him with the most placid expression on her face, the rest of her body rigid as if set in stone.

_What he would give to be running along the ramparts now…_

_…but she did ask for this,_ he decided with a frown, poking his finger fruitlessly along the frayed leather stitching of the sword-handle. _She asked for it. Just a few days after their first conversation, not six moons past, the Lady had broached him with her ill-met question! __"Tell me Lucian…do lycans…dance?" __Beyond the obvious insult, of__ course he knew what she really wanted._

_Blade-dancing._

_It was forbidden, but as long as lycans did it in secret, the Elders turned a blind eye. His initial thought had been 'over his dead body', but l__ike every other lycan under the sun, his worded answer had been..._

_"No, milady."  
__"Absolutely not, milady."  
__"Why would lycans dance, milady?"  
"I protect and serve milady. I do not dance."_

And on one particularly annoying occasion...

_"Oh for the love of blood, milady, would you please stop shoving me into the dancing circle?!"_

_It was only after three solid weeks of her 'subtle' inquiry (morning after morning of annoying harassment) that he'd finally swallowed his misgivings and showed her a pared-down version of blade-dancing. Perhaps seeking to repay some of the kindness she had once shown him. Perhaps seeking to achieve some semblance of peace in his mornings. _

_Perhaps seeking to shut her up._

The frustrated colour began to seep slowly back into his cheeks. At least the runt had sense enough to dismiss both minstrels from their morning duties. _And yet, there was no need!__ He'd only meant to teach the pup-version of blade-dancing. __Severely simplified, platonic sword-trysts suitable for a boy dancing with his sister. Today's lesson on __'circling the prey' had been no different. Four slices along the skin, twist into your own back, step along the side and bow._

_Any twelve-year-old fool without legs could master it!_

Sheathing the sword (the leather be damned), he forced himself to stand, ready to inform his bird-like charge that _this_ _dance_ was coming to an end. No more lessons. No more demonstrations. None. He opened his mouth...and closed it, his annoyance stripped away by her expression.

_Cold detachment…_

The green eyes which held no warmth, the vampire standing still as stone. He did not need his sisters to tell him he had just ruined the minor friendship he had developed with this runt over the past few moons. Worse, he deserved her disdain. _Three more seconds into that dance, and her gown would have been sliced in two. Maybe three as he was rather quick with the sword. _Ashamed of himself, Lucian lowered himself into a penitent bow, one knee raised, the other drawing further from the obviously revolted woman…

"Forgive me, milady…I stumbled in the step. I should not have…"

Abruptly, the Lady coughed, forcing him to silence. He heard the soft sound of her bare feet approaching him and facing the ground, as usual of late, he found himself wondering how she could glide when her leg remained so injured. Only the flickering of torches and the echo of sounds far off throughout the castle, when suddenly from above, the bird uttered a pensive _sound_.

"Hmmph," she said.

Lucian swallowed.

_Hmmph? All she had to say was 'hmmph'? _The hair on his neck suddenly felt a touch wary. Though a minor banter had developed between them in the past few moons, she remained the daughter of Viktor.

"So you _are_ an expert in dance then…" she murmured softly, turning away, only the hem of her gown visible, the embroidered green lining. _Although it was good that her Ladyship had enough mercy to classify his actions as "tugging silk" rather than "stealing chastity," he still had a bad feeling about where this might go. _He had not been given leave to stand, but he dared to look up, suffering the faintest misgiving at the word _expert_.

As if she could see his daring, the small bird swivelled on her good heel and grinned slyly, her eyes now holding the subtle warmth of leaves drifting through calm, summer winds. She gestured for him to rise and almost sighing in relief, Lucian stood and leaned back against the column, his hand far from his sword-hilt. _The Lady was as she had been before the lesson had started, so perhaps she would see fit to put this behind them. Except her expression was rapidly changing from subtle warmth to brazen mischief..._

Completely relaxed, she beckoned him forward. His heart sinking, he took a step forward. She again beckoned him forward. He took another step forward, realizing she was drawing him back towards the dance-circle and away from the marble column. He took a step back, shaking his head...

"Milady, I really must return to my..."

"Nonsense."

Smirking, she walked around behind him and pushed him forward, forcing him to walk until he stood in the centre. She then faced him and took a single step forward, moving between the cords of black death and mimicking the start of the blade dance...

"How strange that for all your graceful footwork, Dull-wit," she said lightly. "...you falter at the slightest step."

"Milady, what you saw was merely a..."

"..._lycan_ _blade-dance._" she smirked. "Though I believe you have played a child's trick upon me these past few moons. You are _not_ an expert. You are not even very good," she frowned, stalking slowly around his person and mocking him with his own words. "Perhaps you should give it up?" Without waiting for his answer, the Lady Sonja nodded and turned, both hands clasped behind her back, her right foot forward. "A_gain,_ if you please…the true dance."

"_Your pardon?_" He raised his head sharply, unable to mask his scowling disapproval.

"I said '_again'…" _she muttered in tranquil awareness, now easily holding his gaze through the darkness. "I trust you are not going deaf, Dull-wit, though it would not matter seeing that this is a dance of _silence_." The way she said the last word, it was more of a command than a description. "From the beginning…" she insisted again, her tone a bit colder.

He frowned, still bowing his head and forcing the grit from his teeth. "Milady, I'm afraid I must protes-…"

The words caught in his throat.

Even if he wanted to, he could not speak. It was like a slow-waking dream, her speed uncanny, the sight of her hand reaching out...the icy palm of winter pressing onto his jaw, softer than silk, yet _cutting_ his voice off. _She might be a weakling, but she still had a portion of Viktor's strength._ The lady had raised his chin forcefully, her gaze strong, the light green swallowed by the stormy colours of the deep sea…

"I give you my word, good sir…" she tilted her head slightly. "...if this request shames you, I will press you no more…" If possible, her tone had become even more negligent. _Icy_. One of ridicule and the voice of an arrogant woman who cared little for whether he had the guts to answer her request. In other words…

…a _challenge_.

His jaw tightened.

Inwardly, the lycan growled at the hiss behind her words, but instead…_remembering his place and duty, _he closed both eyes and bowed his head in submission.

"Very well, milady…" Lucian said softly, his voice both rich and rolling. His tone was immaculate, the perfect form expressing the solemn and steadfast nature of his _angelic_ obedience, the tranquil eyes docile before her powerful gaze. She nodded in approval and removed her palm, turning her back on him as the rest of her slim figure flowed smoothly to her first and _only_ position in this dance.

Already scowling at the retreating back, Lucian unsheathed his sword, his eyes turning wolfish as the words '_Like hell, milady' _drifted pleasantly through his mind. Orders or not, he was skipping the final part and if the pubescent runt didn't like it, she could find someone else to show her blade dancing.

Preferably someone with the same _blood_ for starters…

Returning to his starting point and observing that his prey was in position, Lucian again lowered himself into a languid bow, _reluctantly_ raising his sword and lining both feet up with the edge of his mistress' arm. _A wonder that this madness even started in the first place_. For a second time, his wrist began to turn, curving the blade slowly along her skin and halting the icy breath as it passed from her lips. Taking a single step forward, he twisted the hilt suddenly… _What was the point in asking a lycan's name if you weren't even going to use it? Had he known what he was getting into, he might have begged her to have him whipped rather than sustain her friendship._ …moving the blade smoothly across her untouched shoulders and the air above. The small hairs rising as he danced on…_ As if he would ever...ever show her an actual "blade-dance! Country-swords, youngling-steps_…_perhaps even a knife-tryst, but blade-dancing?_

_By his teeth, certainly not!_

_Strangely enough, she seemed to think them friends...which he supposed they were, yet how easy was it for the upperclass to befriend the lower classes? She could do as she pleased, but for him, it was a nightmare. Still confined to his duties, he was forced to keep serving her as he would a respected liege…knowing his place as her guardian. Granting her wishes. Keeping his tone subdued, and at times, smiling politely as she goaded him with a knife…_

_The lady was sarcastic. Shameless. Annoying!_

He bit his lip, again avoiding her head by inches. Blade-dancing was not an easy feat, and though she might mock him as an expert, the truth was, he was actually quite good. _First among the lycan warriors, he was very skilled with a blade. A little too skilled, some would say. The lycan women were practically fighting over his bed, and this vampiric runt thought she could shame him. _Even as he danced, with this sudden thought of pride at his own unsurpassed skill, Lucian again frowned at his earlier misstep._ It was a wonder how he'd gotten carried away like that…_

_Even if she were lycan, she'd be_ _hardly_ _worth his attention. Yet somehow, __perhaps out of habit, after 'circling the prey,' his skilled feet had turned onto the true blade dance. A path that usually led somewhere with hay…warmth…venison…and the promise of better things to come, which, judging by her Ladyship's misshapen form, was certainly not the case here, _he determined with some disdain.

Having completed the mid-step (and having no plans _whatsoever_ to run a sword anywhere near the Lady's lower half), Lucian swayed into _his_ _own_ back without thought, stepped easily to the side and bowed, rising swiftly to face her once more. Only to share a weary gaze with…

_Pillars_…

Hearing a dissatisfied sigh, he realized the Lady Sonja had long-since dropped gracefully to the marble floor, and was currently drawing her misshapen leg closer as she eyed the razor-sharp sword in his hand.

"And what of the _woman_?" Her brazen eyebrows frowned in question.

"I'm sorry, milady?" he murmured, still uncertain how any portion of this dance could be unclear after she'd dragged him from his duties and _harassed_ him into demonstrating the more shameful features of lycanthrope culture. _For the love of blood, he'd nearly sliced her dress in two…did she need a guide?_

"She makes no movement?"

He paused, smoothly returning his sword to its sheath…

"Unless she _wants_ to have her head lopped off…_no_…"

Suddenly grimacing, the Lady Sonja's mouth began to open…

…and realizing he would have to elaborate, without thinking, the annoyed lycan smoothly interjected, gesturing as he spoke and knowing full-well the kind of tune Lady Sonja liked to harp on about...

"_I agree, _milady_…_she is indeed at the mercy of her brethren, _but_…" Lucian paused, thinking up a suitable lie for the moment. Regardless of what the Lady got up to in her spare time, he doubted she was much versed in the ways of the world. Placing his hands behind his back, he nodded sagely and continued… "…as the flower, she symbolizes the core of our people. She is the creator of life and the mother of all that is fair and pure. In truth, it is her presence that leads the dance and it is the warrior that bows before _her_ grace…"

"…countenance and memory." She waved her hand… "Yes, yes…but do not the women of your culture hold weaponry during the daylight hours? At least a dagger…"

"For _protection_…and yet in this dance, there is no need, for it is the honourable duty of the warrior to act as the very weapon she holds in her grasp, milady. At the very least, the lady may hold a sheathe. Forgive me in saying that in our peaceful society, the lady hath no need for such worldly evils…"

"Then pray tell me, what if the lady hath no need for the warrior's worldly advances? Is she to stand frozen as _honourable_ duty satisfies his lust at the expense of her gown?"

Lucian grimaced, not quite liking the way this flowery speech of lies was going. "Of what lust do you speak of, milady? As far as this dance is concerned, gowns are merely an outward symbol of the inner purity at hand. The warrior, in his honour, must meditate upon said purity and, as such, the gown becomes a focal point for his…_that is to say_…her gown is the necessary…_good_…which must be…"

The Lady Sonja dropped onto her back suddenly and laughed, gesturing to the ceiling as her next words came out in mocking lament. "By the winds, Lucian…your tongue has brought you to the point._" _She raised the back of her hand to her forehead and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Perhaps more flowers and fair symbolism for the _sweet_ Lady Sonja?" Scoffing, the torn water-lily sat up again and smirked, pointing a candid finger at the now scowling lycan. "Even by your own words, it is the sword and sheath that is most important to the meaning of this dance rather than the Lady's _purity_." Unable to contain her delight at witnessing a true blade-dance, the Lady Sonja suddenly clapped her hands together, a wicked gleam finding its way into her enthralled vision. "Now tell me, Lucian, does the Lady truly remain still or are her movements too _scandalous_ to be described? Are her clothes sliced into…_no_, _no_…that would be too much waste. Perhaps she divests herself through a series of…"

"Is this entirely _appropriate_?" he growled, eliciting a spluttering laugh from the fair Lady Sonja. At least she had called him by name finally, but scowling as if his face was under siege, he still crossed his arms doggedly. He was forgetting his personal promise to address this _runt_ befitting her rank, but..._oh blood, this girl would be the death of him, carrying on as she did._

"Do I spy _blood_ in your face, Lucian?" she whispered in mocking awe from her perch on the floor. "Oh…yes, yes I believe I do. How intriguing…for one who _dances_ past a lady's thigh with his sword, I would think you'd have swallowed your shame years ago…"

And now swallowing his first retort, Lucian managed to force a winning, if not tight, grin of teeth upon his face before dryly murmuring, "Alas, I am forced to concede." Bantering easily, the next words fell from his tongue without thought. "I hold no doubts whatsoever about the _vast_ experience her ladyship's greater knowledge must have gained in such matters…"

_Mistake._

Immediately, he sensed the change. A tightness in her lips, the lady rose to her feet in a split second, her eyes shot to the terrifying tones of vampiric blue. Her expression was one of absolute calm, but her next words were spoken so quietly, filled with such intensity as to ring sharper than a hiss.

"Whatever you may have heard, _lycan_," She spat the last word, making it seem an insult. "...I am no lady of little virtue. You may address the rest of my flaws as you will, but do not bandy lies as if they were true."

Lucian stepped back, bowing his head, though in mind, he knew himself stunned into absolute stillness.

"Milady, I only meant to..."

"It grows late," she interjected sharply, looking towards the door. Striking in her anger, the Lady tilted her head arrogantly back at him. "I will see you here on the morrow, Sir Dull-wit. Another blade-dance." As suddenly, her eyes reverted to pale green. Turning for the hallway, she headed for the door.

Lucian blinked. He could barely _equate_ this wounded woman of gravity standing before him with the torn water-lily or _even_ the brazen bird of feisty upkeep. He had merely meant another jest, but she had taken him seriously. Although the bird had angered him with her misinterpretation, there was still a strange sense of…_sorrow_ in his person. His words had cost the Lady her good mood…and for that, he was…_sorry_. Even as she neared the door, he stalked to her side, able to move swiftly with the speed of strong limbs. Speed that _had_ never and _would_ never be hers.

"Milady, you must forgive me," he entreated, feeling oblivious to her grave thoughts. "I meant this only in jest, but I fear, the barbs may be too sharp for our subtle mornings. Whether by sword or words, I _pray_ you…" As they neared the door, his voice lay hardly above a sigh. "…let us not continue in this manner."

Inwardly, he silently dared to hope she might see the danger of this exchange. As a creature of cold logic, he had always made a point of considering _all_ possible outcomes. And where _else_ could this banter go? _Do not force me from my duty, milady… Even in our speech, there lies only conflict! Lycans and vampires are not meant to…_

…_to…_

_To speak, let alone…_

Even in his mind, he couldn't finish the thought. But as if staring upon his soul as he once looked upon hers, a strange look of _shrewdness_ suddenly passed across the Lady Sonja's face as she watched him. Her eyes darkening for a moment as the same thought crossed her mind…

_For where could this banter go?_

She paused long enough to squint at him, but as if determined to be _tranquil_ through the rest of their exchanges, without answering, the Lady moved on through the doorway. Left behind for a moment, Lucian closed his eyes, pressed an extremely aggravated hand to his forehead…and then in turn, stalked down the same hallway, assuming his place in front of her. _It was his duty to guard the Lady Sonja at a safe distance at least until she reached her chambers…but as tradition, he would be forced to walk three feet before or behind her. Examining all paths before she stepped through them. Inspecting the hidden shadows and safe-guarding the Lady from any possible harm. Words were not spoken during this time, so in essence…their conversation was over._

_And for the best, _thought Lucian dourly as he sniffed the air. Continually wary of his surroundings, regardless of how safe the castle itself might seem.

_o...o...o...o_

Silent, the Lady Sonja continued to walk slowly behind the lycan, now putting a single arm out and following the cool marble walls with one finger as she stalked the many corridors leading to her quarters. Closing her eyes, she passed through the dark hallways, trying to make sense of the few _true_ steps she'd seen this morning. Her thoughts flowing easily along the silent dance of swords … _Although he had demonstrated "blade-dancing" for several moons now, nothing he had shown her before came even vaguely close to this morning's…energy. __And the dance itself…_

_The style emulated that of vampire's, but at the same time, utterly changed its execution. Like a hunter, her guardian had made no pretense at measurement, but instead, paced his timing to her breath, circling her still form as if hunting prey._

_And how strange when he touched her! _The pressure of his hand on her neck. A _lycan's_ hand. _The distinctive sensuality between the two parties. Carnal hunger in his eyes…and that momentary grasp of her thigh. The fleeting glance…_

_And within seconds, it was as if they had…_

_They had…_

For the second time that day, the Lady Sonja's thoughts abruptly _shied_ away from sacrilege. A mere three feet away from her chambers and she balked, watching as Lucian entered, scoping the room out. He was looking away from her, but she frowned coldly at his back, her eyes suddenly challenging and distant. _She was the daughter of an Elder. Viktor. First among the vampires._

_Such thoughts were a__bomination._

_o...o...o...o_

Seeing the harsh change in her expression, Lucian almost grinned. _Finally, _he thought with solemn approval. _The runt is not as foolhardy as I first thought…_Keeping his face as expressionless as a mask, the lycan continued searching for any _hint_ of danger. Though in truth, there was not much to search. Where most vampiric women filled their bowers with jewelry, lavish gowns and the soft furnishings of the wealthy, the Lady Sonja_'s_ chamber could easily have passed for that of a nun.

Waiting for his dismissal, Lucian bowed silently as the Lady entered the searched chamber. Hardly noticing his presence, she waved a careless palm and whispered, "You may go."

"By your leave," he murmured, turning towards the doors and bowing a second time before closing the massive oak planks smoothly behind him. Standing awkwardly against the wood for a moment, Lucian paused…listening for the sound of intruders. A ten-second pause…and then he left.

_Brazen, indeed…_

_By the next night, blade-dancing would be a thing of the past._


	3. Chapter II: The Dance of the Fool

**Chapter II: The Dance of the Fool**

Within the room, the seemingly _torn_ water-lily dropped her woolen gown to the floor, leaving both her fastening brooches on a wooden table as she began carelessly divesting herself of the linen shift hanging from her shoulders. Dropping this on the floor as well, she smoothly walked to the one area of her quarters where Lucian was _not_ allowed to search. The darkness of her bed-chamber. A room, fashioned of solid stone, that remained sealed by lock, and in truth, could welcome neither friend nor foe save by the will of its occupant…the sole owner of the key which opened its door.

Removing the key from around her neck, the torn water-lily calmly fit the circular piece into the hole and turned the stone cavity until she heard a _click_. Placing her hand into a crevice of the wall, she pulled the door open and stood in the entrance-way, allowing her eyes to adjust slowly as she peered through the darkness…

…a small frown darkening her lips as she hissed at the raven-haired man _still_ strewn across her bedclothes, wool and linens. _By Pater's hand, he hadn't even dressed yet._ But sensing the exterior light, the familiar voice caught in her bed began to moan…putting a woozy hand to his head and pulling his naked body towards the sound of her hiss.

"Is 't dusk?" he muttered blearily.

"No," she murmured softly. Coldly. "By the rays, it is morning…and by your lingering _stench_, I _still_ find your presence _taxing_. Perhaps you may consider sleeping off your diminished manhood _elsewhere_."

Still blinking sleepily, the man sat up in the bed, pushing the hair from his face. "How'm I supposed to get to my chambers from here?" he grumbled, the bleary voice coming out whiny and croaking with the lilting tongue of _misuse_. "Sun's out."

"Well, I'm afraid, _kind_ sir…that's not _my_ concern." She smirked in the darkness, allowing a feigned pout to show upon her face. "What is my concern, however, is that you haven't fed for a whole night. Aren't you _starving_?" She sat on the side of the bed and patted him on the cheek. "Why don't you find yourself something _nice_ to eat before you disintegrate from hunger…"

"Night b'fore…_last?"_

"Or was it two? I can't really _remember_ …" she whispered with a cruel smile, noting with pleasure that the vampire was already grabbing his things from the floor, trying to dress and walk at the same time in the midst of his drunkenness. It still took him about ten minutes to get a shift over his head…but now almost at the doorway, he suddenly turned around, trying to pulling his breeches on. "What abou' you?" he muttered, the syllables starting to slur.

"What?" she whispered coolly.

"You've-ve eaten?"

She shrugged, already pulling herself into the bed. _Her mind caught up with other things._

_Other people…_

Realizing she wasn't about to answer, he decided to try and push his luck. Wiping his drunk face a little, he yawned. "So when can I…"

"Not tonight…" she murmured offhandedly.

"Bu' why?" he asked. A little confused. Very whiney.

Keeping the smirk from her face, she turned her head to face him, allowing the warmth to shine through. "Because I need my _rest_. Because I'm _weak_. Because I have no _soul_. Or perhaps…let us pretend that for once, 'I…" and suddenly, she smiled viciously in the midst of her sentence. "…require solitude for the night'…is that understood?"

He shrugged unsteadily…

"O…_kay_…" he whispered sleepily, unnerved by the coldness of her tone. _She had been so warm last night._

Silently closing the door behind him and listening as she locked herself in with a sharp click, he made his clumsy way through the dark chamber, groggily trying to come up with a path to reach his quarters from this part of the castle. He bumped into several items and fell over a chair, but soon found himself at what he _thought_ might be one of the doors to Sonja's chamber. He pushed it…yes. Definitely a door…and from what he remembered he was in the…_east_…_wing_? Or was it _west_…

Closing the large double doors of the Lady Sonja's quarters, the gangly nobleman turned into the hallways and looked groggily about. _Yes. Easy. _Simply a matter of going by the…_east_…corridor. Which was right. Or left. Or was it _ww-est_? And then the _kitchens_.

_Disgusting_ kitchens…

Disgusting _lycan_ kitchens…

…_but the ss-stink would be…worth it as long as he found…ss-something to feed on. (yaaawn) Ss-stupid creatures must have b-bblood ready. At least a bit of a veniss-isusis-on…or horse…or (yawwwn)…_

_Lycan dogs and their ss-tupid, mangy habits_, he thought with a grumble, shoving his way past a…

…lycan.

Still rather drunk, he stopped for a moment and pressed his palm onto the creature's shoulder. "Y-uou there…"

The strange creature…this lycan…turned his head slightly in recoil at the "_freshness" _of the vampire's breath.

"You are…_a…dirty lycan_," nodded the drunk vampire as he swayed. "I _rremember_ your f-ffuh-face…now, where's your k-kitchen?" He spoke excruciatingly slow as if talking to a child.

Frowning, Lucian raised an eyebrow (the vampire saw this as a warm smile followed by a bow,) and pointed to his right. "Two corridors down, take the far left, follow the stairwell and keep walking until you smell blood…_milord_." The words were calm, but his tone was one of utter disgust.

"I will see to it that…" the raven-haired vampire paused, and then nodded, patting Lucian on the back. "…I will sss-see to it that you are offered _cuh…cu…clemency_."

Lucian nodded, the scowl deepening upon his face. (The vampire saw this as groveling.)

"No, no…" said the vampire. "I…will not take… 'nuh-no' for an answer. Now…gu-get out of my…sss-sight."

"_I thank you_, milord," Lucian whispered with an icy frown. "…for I could not stand here much longer myself."

"_What_?"

"I said, you must be wary of your health."

"_Ah_. It is ttrue…because I am vvuery…pale…and the sun's rays…are _devasuhst_…are _deva_…are '_bad'_ for my skin," he shrugged with a woozy smile. "And now…tooo _supper_," he said.

Lucian remained silent, merely staring icy daggers at the vampire, who nodded a second time and unsteadily headed down the corridor. Watching, it still took several seconds for the vampire to count _two _corridors, and almost ready to snarl, Lucian finally stepped forward and sent him down the right one.

_Fool, _he thought…

…but as he said the word, he stared back towards the oak doors from which the very drunk nobleman, Kraven had just exited from. And to his shock, even as Kraven was still making his dull way to the kitchens…another vampire…_Benoit_…a lowly, but somewhat comely member of Markus' house was knocking softly against the _same_ door with a rather keen look on his face. Backing against the tapestry to his right, Lucian's mouth abruptly _dropped _as he saw the door slyly open as a pale (_highly recognizable!)_ female arm pulled Benoit in by the top of his shirt.

_By the…_

_She…_

…_that…_

His eyes hardened…

_That…Jezebel!_

…_again! I play the part of a fool…_he realized, shaking his head in disbelief.

_Not ten minutes past, he'd found himself turning back from his departure from the Lady's corridor. Unable to throw this awful feeling of regret at having misused this naive bird... __Thinking her a weakling…frail. Thinking she might be smarting from his insult…_ neglecting his breakfast, and returning to her door, thinking perhaps to_…but now…by the Elders, he didn't know what to think!_

_Every time he thought he knew, she…just_…

_...and this was the second time the Lady had caught him off-guard!_

_Even today, she seemed so…_

Immediately the growl began to rumble in his throat. This wasn't _right_. Though he himself was by no means a virtuous creature, the Lady Sonja of _all _people ought to be…

…_chaste! Pure!_

_Unsullied! _he thought abruptly, not even noticing the prudish and rather _hypocritical_ tone of his thoughts.

_Bandying lies, indeed…_

_And she had the audacity to yell at_ him _for insinuating the obvious!_

"_Lady of little virtue_, you are _not_, milady, but the word '_slut'_ certainly _rings_ _true_," he grated softly to himself, the growl darkening his face as he turned from the corridor, leaving the venue of Lady Sonja's room a second time that morning.

_And a pity on the man who marries you…_

Still stalking carelessly down the aisles, Lucian sniffed the air and immediately headed towards the kitchens, now in search of something _carnal_ to eat.


End file.
